“The poor boy brought nothing from America but wretchedly shabby clothes, and we had to clothe him from head to foot. We were obliged to economize, and a little tailor in the Avenue de Clichy, called Valerius, made this suit.” “It seems to me scarcely probable that the police will find this little tailor. But if they do, would he recognize the button as coming from his stock? And, if they get as far as your brother, they must prove that there was a struggle; that the button was torn off in this struggle; that your brother was in the Rue Sainte-Anne between five and six o’clock; in which case, without doubt, he will find it easy to prove where he was at that moment.” “He was with us--with mamma.” “You see, then, you need not feel alarmed.” CHAPTER XVIII. A GRAVE DISCUSSION Phillis hurried to return to the Rue des Moines, to share with her mother and brother the confidence that Saniel caused her to feel. She pulled the bell with a trembling hand, for the time was past when in this quiet house, where all the lodgers knew each other, the key was left in the door, and one had only to knock before entering. Since the newspapers had spoken of the button, all was changed; the feeling of liberty and security had disappeared; the door was always closed, and when the bell rang they looked at each other in fear and with trembling. When Florentin opened the door, the table was set for dinner. “I was afraid something had happened to you,” Madame Cormier said. “I was detained.” She took off her hat and cloak hastily. “You have learned nothing?” the mother asked, bringing in the soup. “No.” “They spoke to you of nothing?” Florentin continued in a low voice. “They spoke to me of nothing else; or I heard only that when I was not addressed directly.” “What was said?” “No one believes that the investigations of the police bear on the button.” “You see, Florentin,” Madame Cormier interrupted, smiling at her son. But he shook his head. “However, the opinion of all has a value,” Phillis cried. “Speak lower,” Florentin said. “It is thought that it is impossible for the police to find, among the two or three thousand tailors in Paris, all those who use the buttons marked A. P. And if they did find them, they could not designate all their customers to whom they have furnished these buttons. It is really looking for a needle in a bundle of hay.” “When one takes plenty of time, one finds a needle in a bundle of hay,” Florentin said. “You ask me what I heard, and I tell you. But I do not depend entirely on that. As I passed near the Rue Louis-le-Grand, I went to Doctor Saniel’s; it being his office hour I hoped to find him.” “You told him the situation?” Florentin exclaimed.